When I went to Commercial College
to study they asked me my name and I said naturally Mary A. Pettengill.
Then the girls began to call me May, and the boys, or young men I
suppose you call them, nicknamed me Miss Atlas, on account of my
initials. Now that I have given you a chart of my names to go by, the
reading will no doubt be plain sailing in future."
Quincy laughed and said, "I should call it a M.A.P. instead of a chart."
"Fie! Mr. Sawyer, to make such a joke upon my poor name. No doubt you
have thought of one that would please you better than any I have
mentioned."
Quincy thought he had, but he wisely refrained from saying so. He could
not help thinking, however, that Miss Atlas was a very appropriate name
for a girl who was all the world to him. It is evident that Uncle Ike's
words of advice the previous afternoon had not taken very deep root in
Quincy's heart.
He resumed his reading:
"My dear May:--How are you getting along in that dismal country town,
and how are your poor eyes? I know you can't write to me, but I want you
to know that I have not forgotten you.
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